


A Vague Yet Thrilling Half-Credence In The Supernatural

by Renwick



Category: TWICE (Band)
Genre: Alternate Universe - Supernatural Elements, Alternate Universe - Urban Fantasy, F/F, Mythical Beings & Creatures
Language: English
Status: In-Progress
Published: 2019-01-21
Updated: 2019-03-14
Packaged: 2019-10-01 07:19:39
Rating: Teen And Up Audiences
Warnings: Creator Chose Not To Use Archive Warnings
Chapters: 3
Words: 14,019
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/17239886
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/Renwick/pseuds/Renwick
Summary: Six apartments on the outskirts of Seoul, eight supernatural residents, one human, and a whole lot of bullshittery.





	1. January 3rd

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> Jeongyeon gets bullied, Momo wakes up way too early, and Tzuyu makes a rookie mistake.
> 
> Cheers, and I hope you enjoy this foray into the unknown as much as I do. 
> 
>  
> 
> Title from the Mystery of Marie Rogêt by Edgar Allen Poe.

**JEONGYEON**  
**January 3rd**

The folding kitchen door slams open, the flimsy wood rattling on squeaky hinges. Jihyo throws her backpack somewhere behind her, and it lands on the carpet with a heavy thud. She must have literally just gotten back from work, because Jihyo invades their kitchen in her full businesswoman, striking blazer and slacks glory. She’s a conqueror, that one. With no hesitation, she took her workplace by storm in the same way she inserted herself into Jeongyeon’s life.

She crosses the kitchen in four large strides towards Jeongyeon with a thousand-watt grin, the kind that Jeongyeon doesn’t see enough of and one that she’s seen enough of. A giddy Jihyo is a dangerous Jihyo, second only to _completely sloshed_ Jihyo, and Jeongyeon regrets inviting her over for dinner already.

“What’s got you so excited?” Nayeon asks, voice carrying a slight echo from leaning half of her body into the fridge.

“Full occupancy!” Jihyo whoops, throwing an arm around Jeongyeon's neck with the force that only comes with a decade and a half of friendship. If she hadn’t braced her legs against the oven door, a ripping hot pan of tteokbokki would have gone flying across the dining room. It’s times like these where she’s reminded that Jihyo is actually the youngest amongst the three of them. “I was getting tired of scheduling apartment tours.”

“Uh huh,” Jeongyeon rolls her eyes, scraping the bottom of the pan with a wooden spoon.

She didn’t mind humoring Jihyo, considering it’d only be a few minutes until she and Nayeon ran their mouths off for the rest of the evening. Neither of them understood the idea of using an inside voice, you know, _inside_ , a concept even Sana’s five year old students could pick up in a matter of minutes.

“After all this suffering, it finally pays off to be a landlord,” Jihyo sighs happily, arm tightening around her neck. While trying not to choke and die, some of the gochujang sauce escapes the pan, dripping onto the stovetop with a hiss, and Jeongyeon’s eye twitches. “Do you think I can start drinking craft beer instead of convenience store soju?"

“Don’t quit your day job,” Jeongyeon mutters. That was going to be a bitch to clean up.

“Are they another supernatural?” Nayeon turns towards them, pulling a pair of thin rimmed glasses and a blood bag out of the fridge.

The circular lenses start to fog the moment she puts them on. Whatever the reason, Jeongyeon would never understand the satisfaction Nayeon found in wearing chilled glasses. Weirdo.

“Cutest dryad ever,” Jihyo gushes. “Her name’s Chou Tzuyu, and apparently she’s Chaeyoung’s vet. Signed her lease today and she’s moving in later this month.”

“Is she the one who’s like, three meters tall?” Jeongyeon hums, pausing for a moment to lick the spoon. “Whenever Chaeng takes her familiar in, she doesn't shut up for a week on how unfair it is that she has a solid ten centimeters on her."

“Uh huh,” Jihyo says, loosening her grip (thank god) before slinking off to poke around their fridge. “Pretty sure she’s taller than you, even with your horns, Jeongyeon.”

Jeongyeon's horns kept her a comfortable few centimeters ahead of Nayeon and Jihyo. No way was Chaeyoung’s vet, no way was this Chou Tzuyu going to one up her. Sure, they measured like five centimeters on a good day and were buried under her billowy grey hair half the time, but goddamnit she was a Domovoi and she was proud of them. Although she had to admit that Nayeon was right — they were kind of stubby.

“She’s built like the Lotte World Tower and you still think she’s cute?” Nayeon snorts, carefully snipping open a blood bag before dumping its contents in a highball glass.  

“I swear her smile could bring about a new era of world peace,” Jihyo sighs dreamily. “Is it weird that I want to swaddle her in a blanket and tuck her into bed?”

“I mean, kinda?” Nayeon shrugs nonchalantly.

“Kinda? That is _definitely_ weird.” Jeongyeon groans. If she was the most normal one, then something was terribly, terribly wrong with everyone else who lived here. “She hasn’t even moved in yet and you just might convince her to move out.”

“Whatever,” Nayeon says, elbowing Jeongyeon right underneath the ribs. Jerk.

Nayeon always insisted that vampires didn’t _really_ have super strength and it was just another "stupid human myth" like how they were also supposedly deathly allergic to garlic, but Jeongyeon was pretty sure she was just lying. Whenever she laughed, whoever had the misfortune to be within two feet of Im Nayeon got slapped, and Jeongyeon knew all too well how hard she could hit.

“Anyway, do we still have any vodka? I’m trying to make a Bloody Mary.”

“Vodka?” Jeongyeon sputters, gawking at Nayeon who just crosses her arms and raises an expectant eyebrow. If anyone could be a functioning alcoholic, it was her. “I mean, yeah, but it’s Thursday? Don’t you have work tomorrow?”

“It’s nine o’ clock on a Friday somewhere in the world,” Jihyo quips, crunching on a leftover stick of celery.

“No. No it’s not,” Jeongyeon narrows her eyes, watching Nayeon rummage through a cupboard. “Pretty sure that's not how timezones works."

“Do you know how many people I had to test for the flu today? Unfortunately, it shows up on blood tests and it tastes fucking awful.” Nayeon pretends to retch, scrunching her nose. She grabs a clear bottle from the liquor cabinet, inspecting it all too briefly before dumping half of its contents into her glass while frowning at Jeongyeon. “I need a drink to forget the taste. Don’t judge me.”

“I’m judging you,” Jeongyeon rolls her eyes. That was definitely not three parts vodka. This is why Dahyun was always the one entrusted with manning the bar.

“Why are you being super judgy today?” Nayeon harrumphs, taking a sip of her drink through a completely and unnecessarily contorted neon green bendy straw.

“Mmhm,” Jihyo adds unhelpfully, draping herself over Nayeon, arms circling her waist. “Totally judged me for saying Tzuyu was cute."

“Oh my god,” Jeongyeon groans loudly, putting her face into her hands. “That’s because you’ve met her _once_ and you already want to swaddle her in a damn blanket and tuck her into bed!”

“In Jihyo’s defense,” Nayeon smiles dangerously, the kind of smile that makes Jeongyeon question why the hell she even likes Im Nayeon. “You’re the one who _swaddled,_ past tense, as in it happened, Mina in a blanket.”

“Awww, Jeongyeon,” Jihyo coos sweetly, resting her chin in the crook of Nayeon’s neck. “That’s adorable. I can’t believe I missed this.”

“She looked cold, okay?” Jeongyeon hisses, desperately willing the rising blush on her cheeks to go away. If it was even possible, Jihyo coos even louder. “And I didn’t _swaddle_ her, I just put a blanket over her."

“Sure, Jeong,” Nayeon winks, a shit-eating grin plastered all over her stupidly pretty, stupidly smug face. “Whatever you say.”

“Pass me the bottle. I think I’m gonna need a drink.”

* * *

  **MOMO**  
**January 21st**

“Momo.”

It had been so long since she’s had a Monday that didn’t start at 6 AM. Prepping the salted caramel cheesecakes and chocolate raspberry cupcakes were a problem for someone else today.

“Momo,” a voice hisses. “Momo, wake up.”

Snuffling contentedly, Momo presses her face into a soft pillow. The sun-soaked sheets are warm to the touch, and although the air in the room is chilly, below the pleasantly heavy comforter is a haven of warmth that is way too tempting to leave. Like she did every Sunday, Mina had put them through the dryer and Momo practically melted into them the moment she brought them to the couch so that she could fold all the laundry in one fell swoop. Needless to say, Momo herself didn’t get much done that day.

“Momo.” There’s a gentle hand on her shoulders, shaking her lightly.

Oh, right. Mina. She was off today because of Mina.

“Mrmgh?” Momo groans, rubbing the sleep out of her eyes. “What time is it?"

“There’s someone outside,” Mina says, voice tight. “Someone with Jihyo, but I don't recognize their scent.”

She must’ve gotten up earlier, because Mina stares at her owlishly, her eyes wide and brows knitted together as she gnaws on her bottom lip. It’s a bit more than a bedhead, Momo thinks. Her hair is impressively ruffled, like she just stuck her head out of a moving car.

“Is she doing another apartment tour?”

“No. I don’t think so,” Mina frowns, hands fisting the comforter restlessly. “Someone’s moving in.”

“They had to get through Jihyo. I’m sure they’re nice,” Momo says, interlacing their fingers together. “You don’t need to be nervous."

“I’m not nervous, I’m just,” Mina mumbles, shaking her head, her mousy brown locks falling over her eyes. “It’s different, it’s new.”

The moon wasn’t anywhere close to being out, yet Mina was still fidgety. There was something about it that set her on overdrive, like she had to do a billion and one things at once. Overwhelming — that was how Mina had described it. It was exhausting being constantly bombarded with all sorts of stimuli, becoming hyperaware of everything going on around her, the rumbling of the subway underneath the street and the smell of Jihyo’s usual cup of coffee pressing down on her like a weight.

“Sorry. I just feel... strange,” Mina whispers, tightening her grip. “Like I’m being drawn to them or something.”

“Strange? This isn’t a full moon thing?”

“No,” Mina says, voice muffled as she burrows under the comforter. She curls up, back pressed against Momo’s front, hugging her knees to her chest. “I’ve never felt anything like it."

“It’s only,” Momo glances at the clock. “It’s only nine o’ clock. Let them get settled in first.”

Quietly, Mina murmurs something into the pillow, something too soft for her ears to pick up. Swinging her leg over Mina’s, Momo presses her face against the nape of Mina's neck, taking in the subtle smell of the orange ginger shampoo that she always insisted on using.

It’s difficult to imagine what it’s like, being able to smell someone else’s presence from beyond their front door, victim to a gut feeling that claws its way up her chest that leaves Mina all too flighty and ready to leap out from under their covers at a moment’s notice. All of it was inevitable; the tension in her shoulders multiplying as the clock ticked forward, the way she became skittish, jumping at every foreign sound, the atypical abandoned manilla folder and laptop that contained all of the work that she held so dear scattered across their coffee table, her phone left buzzing with emails she wouldn't dare check.

Honestly, it will never cease to terrify her. She’s been witness to the way Mina snarls and bares her teeth when someone enters their apartment unannounced, she’s heard the sickening crack of brittle bone and the pained whimpers, seen the burnt caramel fur sprout from underneath her skin in the pale moonlight.

It’s not _human_. It’s unfamiliar, and that scares her.

But, she knows Mina. She knows the Mina that worked enough overtime that her boss stashed away her work laptop and locked her out of the office, the Mina that ran through her opening statements in front of the bathroom mirror, hand pressing down on the slightest of wrinkles in her blazer over and over and over, the Mina that sobbed into her chest, hands scrabbling at her shirt, crying ugly tears when the final verdict laid waste to hours upon hours of work, how _unfair that a father can’t spend a single hour with his child just because he has horns_.

With the years that have flown by, Momo’s become familiar with all of her nuances. She’s learned a lot. Just ask, and Momo can point out each of the six moles that dot her face, nine if you count the three really light ones, knows how she prefers to chew her food on the side opposite her silver crown. It’s the same Mina that barks out a laugh before it trails off into a sheepish giggle that Momo can hear ringing in her ears, even if Mina is nowhere to be found.  

It’s not her fault, it’s really not. Mina is as much a victim to her birthright as every other living being subject to life.

But no amount of love can shake those stalwart notions, those damned preconceived biases that have been written into each wrinkle of Momo's brain, the same prejudices that Mina fights an uphill battle against every single day.

Momo knows she can’t even begin to fathom being engulfed in sound and smells, that she’ll never truly understand what it feels like to be Mina in the same way that Mina will never truly understand what it feels like to be Momo. They’re different, and the path they walk on remains largely untrodden ground.

Wrapping an arm around Mina's waist, Momo pulls her closer.

The only constant they have is each other, and that alone, Momo hopes, is enough.

“We can go later,” Momo mumbles drowsily, letting Mina’s warmth lull her back into slumber. “Jus' sleep for another hour.”

* * *

  **TZUYU**  
**on the other side of the door, three sweaty hours later**

The baby hairs on the nape of her neck are plastered wetly to her skin, and the sweat turns the stagnant room air into an uncomfortable chill that drips onto the collar of her shirt. If she had known that it would feel like a muggy July day working behind the counter of her mom’s café in Taiwan versus a snowy Monday in the middle of January, she would have worn a tank top. Long discarded, her wool sweater lies in a tangled heap on the couch, the same couch that almost crushed her foot when she tried to walk it across the living room.

“You didn’t have to,” Tzuyu pants, hands on her knees. Jihyo just flashes her a brilliant grin, throwing her a peace sign from her spot on the couch.

“I told you, don't mention it,” Jihyo says, pushing her bangs out of her eyes. It’s absolutely unfair that she _glows_ with perspiration while Tzuyu’s sure she herself looks like a sweaty, disheveled mess. “I’d be a terrible landlord if I didn’t help you move in.”

Tzuyu’s pretty sure Jihyo's definition of “terrible” is the same as her own definition of “average”. Compared to her old landlord, an ancient geezer who was a total stickler about the rules (the kind of guy who Tzuyu _swore_ fantasized about chewing out his residents), Park Jihyo is a saint. A clingy saint, but a saint nonetheless. Her lower back aches something fierce, and Tzuyu kind of regrets not taking two days off from work to settle down, but today would have been significantly more painful if Jihyo hadn’t stuck around.

Lunch. She should really buy Jihyo lunch—

Then, the sound of rapping knuckles cuts her off her thoughts.

“Sorry to intrude!” A voice calls out.

“Momo!” Jihyo chirps happily, waving her in. Just moments prior, she had been slumped on the couch, and now she was as lively as ever. Seriously went from zero to a hundred real quick and Tzuyu thinks she’s going to get whiplash. “Not working today?”

“Nah,” the visitor, Momo, shrugs. “Today’s an off day."

Jihyo pauses to briefly glance at her phone. “And Mina?”

Suddenly, a furry brown snout sticks out from between Momo’s legs. It takes a second for the head to pop out, ears pressed back, fur catching against the denim of Momo’s worn jeans.

“Woah there,” Momo laughs, waddling awkwardly to make room. “Easy, Mina."

When their eyes meet, there’s a jolt, a current that runs down the length of her spine, and Tzuyu swears her heart stops, if only for a second. Her irises are a beautiful, striking amber, and Tzuyu’s never seen anything like it before in her life.

Carefully, Tzuyu kneels down, offering her hand.

She's more than familiar with the pull that comes from being a Dryad, the kind that brings songbirds and pigeons flocking to her window the morning, one that allows her to understand the pain and fear of all the sick creatures that are carried onto her exam table. The stiff tail, curious gaze, rigid jaw, and forward, alert ears are all things Tzuyu’s knows. Being able to read body language comes to anyone, Dryad or otherwise, who spends enough time around animals. However, searching for answers in the golden flecks of Mina’s eyes only returns a formless, faint tug in her gut.

There’s a connection underneath all the static noise between them, she’s absolutely sure. But, it’s as if a channel has been cut out, stereo mixed down to mono. _Something_ is missing, and Tzuyu feels like she’s walking blind without it.

Mina gives her palm a tentative sniff, her nose damp and cool against her heated skin.

“Can I?” Tzuyu tries, turning towards Momo for permission.

“Yeah,” Momo says, voice soft and a knowing smile tugging at the corner of her lips. “Go for it.”

Slowly, Tzuyu reaches for the top of her head, Mina’s unwavering gaze following her hand.  

And, oh god.

 _Oh god_. _She’s so_ _soft_.

A muted gasp escapes her mouth, and really, she can’t help it. In all her years working at the clinic, nothing comes close to how easily her fingers slip through Mina’s caramel fur. No knots, no tangles, and her coat, glossy and healthy, shimmers as if it were silk. For as long as she can remember, Tzuyu has saved a spot in her heart for Gucci. The feathery chihuahua has been with her through thick and thin, never failing to greet with her with a dopey smile and a wagging tail whenever she returns to her parents’ house. She apologizes inwardly though, because it’s rare times like these where she just knows she has to make more room.

Diligently, Tzuyu scratches Mina between her ears, and Mina preens, chest rumbling contentedly. With a satisfied huff, she pushes her head past Tzuyu’s hands, rubbing her muzzle into the crook of her neck. Her whiskers tickle at Tzuyu’s cheek, and engulfed in a voluminous shoulder full of fur, Tzuyu is pretty sure she can die in peace now.

“I’ve never seen her take to someone this quickly,” Jihyo murmurs.

“Is she part Malamute? Leonberger, maybe?” Tzuyu asks, running her hands down Mina’s sides, voice muffled by her coat. “I don’t think I’ve ever seen a dog this big.”

“Tzuyu,” Jihyo laughs, voice melodic and lilting. “Mina’s a werewolf.”

God, that’s embarrassing.

“Oh,” Tzuyu finishes lamely, and she buries her face in Mina’s shoulder, really hoping Jihyo and Momo don’t see the blush edging onto her cheeks.

“Happened to Chaeyoung too,” Momo chuckles. “At least we didn’t forget to tell her this time. She was confused for a solid week."

“Sorry, Mina,” Tzuyu mumbles, and Mina simply snorts, leaving her with a quick lick on the cheek before trodding off towards Jihyo.

“You don’t mind her on the couch, do you?” Momo asks, her head tilting curiously. “Nayeon and Jeongyeon make her stay on the floor.”

Sitting elegantly, Mina waits poised and ready, forepaws tucked close to her body. Her steady gaze focused on Momo as she watches patiently, but Tzuyu isn’t oblivious to the occasional twitch of her haunches. And those eyes, oh god those eyes. How could she say no to that?

“It’s fine,” Tzuyu says. Immediately, Mina leaps onto the couch to shove her large furry head into Jihyo’s hands, yipping happily. “I’m always covered in fur anyway.”

Owning a heavy-duty vacuum, three different lint rollers, and two individual brands of Furminators is the price she pays for being a veterinarian and an animal lover. There isn’t a single day where her lab coat returns home clean. All things considered, it’s a very reasonable price that Tzuyu is more than willing to pay.

“Jeongyeon scolded you too much, didn’t she?” Jihyo coos sweetly, pulling at Mina’s cheeks while Mina whines in assent, the sound drawn out and high in her throat.

“She was _so_ pissed about getting fur all over her couch,” Momo says, shaking her head, looking a bit wistful and a bit more unapologetic. “And then Nayeon was pissed because Jeongyeon refused to wait until the next morning to vacuum it.”

“She needs to loosen up, stop obsessing about cleaning,” Jihyo pouts. “Chewed me out for getting some gochujang on her stovetop the other week.”

“I mean she’s a Domovoi. Maintaining a household is in her blood,” Momo rolls her eyes, and Tzuyu makes a mental note to not mess with Jeongyeon. They haven’t bumped into each other yet, but she wouldn’t be surprised if Jeongyeon didn’t approve of the perpetual strands cat hair all over her wardrobe. No matter what she did, they just refused to go away. Like a hydra, every time she brushed some off, more appeared in its place. “Imagine if she didn’t have a thing for religiously shoveling the sidewalk?"

“So is everyone here...” Tzuyu waves her hands, her voice trailing off.

“Nope,” Momo smiles toothily. "I’m just a human.”

“Our token human,” Jihyo quips, scratching a very content Mina under her chin.

“Wait,” Tzuyu says, narrowing her eyes. No wonder Jihyo had been so excited about finding a new tenant.

People didn't necessarily go out of their way to avoid mages, werewolves, sirens — the whole lot, but Tzuyu can imagine how it must be intimidating living with seven neighbors who were unpredictable. She’s listened to Chaeyoung bitch about her smoke alarm more than once, and if anything, she’s just surprised the building hasn’t already burnt down. That, Tzuyu figures, is enough to convince anyone with a lick of common sense to stay away.

“Just a human? Why here, then?”

Momo shrugs. “The rent was cheap.”

“That’s it?” Surely there was more to it than that.

“Yeah, that’s it."

“Sometimes I think Momo is just hiding something from us,” Jihyo glances over, a smug grin on her face. “Honestly, her stomach is something supernatural."

“Hey!” Momo gasps in mock indignation, hand to her chest. “I just like food, okay?”

“Speaking of food,” Jihyo says, batting her eyelashes innocently. “Do you have anything for your favorite landlord?"

“If you’re okay with leftovers,” Momo says sheepishly. “Don’t expect much from me when I’m off work.”

“Thank you, Momo,” Jihyo pushes herself off the couch, throwing an arm around Tzuyu’s neck. “Come on, you too."

“Oh,” Tzuyu stammers, turning towards Momo. Maybe Jihyo was the patron saint of good neighbors. “Are you sure?”

There’s the scrabble of nails across wood, and then a furry head pressing against the back of her thighs.

“Look, even Mina insists,” Momo laughs. “You can’t turn her down."

“I—“

As if on cue, Mina whines, her large eyes staring through Tzuyu’s soul, and yep — she’s weak. Totally weak. Defeated, Tzuyu lets Jihyo pull her through the door and sighs.

“...Okay."


	2. January 21st

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> Chaeyoung revisits an important lesson, Sana struggles with children, and Tzuyu is definitely awake now.
> 
> Here, we finally begin to realize the “bullshittery” part. Also, Red Velvet really has _six_ members, and don’t let anyone tell you otherwise. Enjoy the bazillion and one cameos this chapter. I really don't know how so many ended up in here.
> 
> Cheers.

**CHAEYOUNG**  
**January 21st**

Groaning, Chaeyoung hits her head against the steering wheel of the police cruiser.

If someone had told freshman Chaeyoung all those years ago that she would grow up to be an arcane detective, she would have been fucking ecstatic. Now, she thinks she’s slowly morphing into the stereotypical jaded officer, becoming more and more lifeless with every cup of that awful break room coffee that she's forced to drink in the mornings.

Murders rarely occur during business hours, and sometimes Chaeyoung would rather be the one to get stabbed, shot, torched in the face, whatever, than to wake up to her dinky, outdated pager screeching like a Jersey Devil. By the time she gets to the scene, all that usually greets her is the stiff, cold body of the poor sap who pissed off a supernatural and the just as cold, artless "ten-seven” buzz through the walkie talkie with way too much static to be acceptable in the modern era. That’s the most exciting it gets — 1 AM surprise murder (not that there were many non-surprise murders) calls. The rest of the job is reaching out to homeowners or businesses for security footage, bagging evidence, or sitting in a department civilian car and waiting. There’s a lot of waiting.

Chaeyoung doesn’t get to play as the omnipotent Sherlock Holmes, and she definitely doesn’t get to perform the pseudo-magical "act of ratiocination" like Le Chevalier Dupin. She’s a Prefect G, an Inspector Jones in the Red-Headed League tailing a nonexistent socially-inept savant, stuck with mountains of paperwork, a million dead end phone calls, and having to chase down witnesses who really don’t want anything to do with the dead guy that just made the front page in the local news.

And god, the paperwork. How many times did she have to sign off some uselessly meandering report written by sleep deprived rookies only to say, yes, that guy is in fact dead. Expired. Deceased. Not alive.

If she was being honest though, there was an addicting sense of pride that came with seeing some jerk get put behind bars or getting a hefty fine slapped onto their head. Sure, Chaeyoung herself was absolutely awful at taming her own magic (Jihyo admitted that she had filed the paperwork for the next tier of fire insurance after Chaeyoung triggered the smoke alarm a “terrifyingly impressive” four times in one day), but just because she could bring a wisp of fire to life at the snap of her fingers didn’t mean she used it to commit arson. She’s a good, proper, law abiding mage.

Okay, okay, sure. She’s burned more than a few things, but arson is about _intent_.

It’s this malicious intent that really gets Chaeyoung fired up, not because she has some sort of insatiable appetite for justice, but because these criminals are always such a _pain in the ass_.

The higher ups have got her on a new case, a stake-out in Itaewon, and Chaeyoung has never been more bored in her entire life. Some asshole shapeshifter keeps pickpocketing unsuspecting foreigners, and all it means for her is long days and late nights roaming the alcohol soaked streets getting hit on by one too many drunk guys while looking for some kind of strange creature digging around for wallets.

But today? She’s paid her dues, and Chaeyoung plans on thoroughly enjoying her lunch break, because now, snooping around for that shapeshifter was Sergeant Jeon and Officer Kim’s problem. It was going to suck, and Chaeyoung knows she won’t hear the end of it when the duo return to the station. Kim Mingyu was a fucking chick magnet in uniform or in plainclothes, and Itaewon regulars weren’t strangers to day drinking. Chaeyoung’s willing to bet her month’s paycheck on their surveillance mission getting botched by a dozen tipsy girls and maybe a handful of equally tipsy guys.

With a sigh, she steps out of the cruiser, rolling her shoulders, and she turns a few heads. At least the job gives her an excuse to wear aviators. In her very humble opinion, they make her look fuckin’ badass.

The wire witch’s knot jingles against the glass of the café door, and the smell of freshly ground coffee beans is almost as welcoming as Dahyun’s cherubic smile.  

“Hey Shirogane,” Dahyun chirps happily, waving from her stool behind the counter. The café is relatively dim, but the halo floating over Dahyun’s head makes the space just a bit brighter, a bit warmer. It’s a good look. “How’s my favorite pint-sized detective doing?”

“First of all, I’m not short. Everyone else is just freakishly tall,” Chaeyoung huffs, digging out her wallet and slipping a handful of bills across the counter. “And second of all, you’ve been spending too much time playing JRPGs with Sana.”

“I mean, we do live together,” Dahyun shrugs. Carefully, she puts the book she had been reading down on the ten-tall stack next to the register. “Do you want the usual?”

“Yeah,” Chaeyoung nods, watching Dahyun work her magic with the espresso machine. “Put in a little something extra, though."

“You got it, boss,” Dahyun giggles, her laugh light and tinkling as she wipes down the milk frother. “Long day? I can practically hear you brooding from here.”

“Tell me about it,” Chaeyoung grumbles. “I have to finish the report on the haunted insurance fraud house in Guro from last week.”

“Oh, the one that was,” Dahyun says, putting her hands up in air quotes. “‘Paranormal Activity but shittier’?”

“It was like a really lame side quest,” Chaeyoung mutters, cringing at the memory of an incorporeal hand digging shamelessly underneath her shirt. It took two Catholic priests and a rabbi to get the damn thing to finally pass into the afterlife.  

“Here’s your medium latte,” Dahyun slides over the paper coffee cup across the counter. “I put in a shot of courage. Thought you wanted something strong to keep you going today."

“A shot of courage? Are you sure you’re not just spiking my drink?” Chaeyoung says, twisting off the lid to squint at the cup’s foamy contents. “Unfortunately, I’m not allowed to drink on the job.”

“I know I’m retired from active duty, but I still maintain my angelic integrity,” Dahyun pouts. An excellent actress, that one.

Chaeyoung rolls her eyes. “Sure.”

Anyone who remained remotely near Sana _did_ _not_ maintain their integrity, and Chaeyoung knew for a fact Dahyun was no exception. She was almost as bad as Tzuyu at lying, and Chaeyoung didn’t need to be a detective to piece together the details. Not even petting a willing Mina for an hour straight would be enough brain-bleach to wipe her memory to a state of blissful ignorance.

“Maybe you’d prefer a shot of wisdom, detective?” Dahyun says, waggling her eyebrows. “It’s real popular with the college crowd.”

“What the hell is a 'shot of courage’ anyway?”

“It adds a bit of ashiness. Some cedar with a hint of roasted hazelnut,” Dahyun says, waving her hand flippantly. Then, she leans over the counter, voice low. “But actually, I have no idea.”

“You don’t know what you put in your own drinks?” Chaeyoung sputters, feeling a grimace etch itself on her face. Getting food poisoning wasn’t on her lunch break to-do list, but at least Dahyun was honest.

“Shush!” Dahyun hisses, slapping a warm, coffee-scented hand over Chaeyoung’s mouth. A few of the other patrons turn to look at them, but quickly go back to minding their own business. “Joohyun’s the one behind the coffee shop stuff. I’m just here for the books.”

“Joohyun?"

“She’s a witch. You know, the _spell_ part of Spellbound Books and Coffee.” Dahyun says, jerking her head in the direction of the rack of syrup pumps. “She’s the one who refills them in the evening before closing up shop. Pretty sure it’s not alcohol though. My tolerance is practically nonexistent and I was completely fine after drinking a cup.”

“Yeah, but don’t you ever get curious?” Chaeyoung sips tentatively at her coffee. “Maybe it’s like some eye of newt kinda thing?”

It tastes fine, so nothing _too_ suspicious there. Not that she knows what eye of newt tastes like, but if it's good enough to drink, Chaeyoung figures it should probably be safe for consumption. Well, if she ended up doing some stupid shit in the evening, at least she had someone to blame. Maybe she should ask for the receipt, paper trails and all. If she’s learned anything from her time on the job, it’s that both criminals and police officers alike get royally screwed over by paperwork.

“We haven’t gotten any health violations yet,” Dahyun shrugs a bit too casually. “Besides, curiosity killed the cat. Just go with it and enjoy your latte.”

“But satisfaction brought it back,” Chaeyoung smirks, smiling wider when Dahyun rolls her eyes.

“Okay, but I wouldn’t question Joohyun about it if I were you,” Dahyun whispers. “Her coven is weird. They’re nice people, but they’re all _really_ _weird_."

“Huh?”

“Every time they stop by, they bring her a new framed pizza delivery guy t-shirt.”

“I…” Chaeyoung tries, but her brain stumbles over the words. Okay. Yup. That took the cake. That definitely deserved to be called really weird. “Like, Dominoes? Mr. Pizza? Papa Johns?”

“Uh huh. The back room is full of them.” Dahyun nods gravely. "I don’t know if it’s some weird running joke and I’m just out of the loop, but I also don’t think I want to know.”

Spellcasting and witchcraft weren’t simple party tricks. Sure, it was still magic, but it wasn’t instantly accessible to those who could focus their thoughts and were lucky enough to be born magically inclined. You had to know your symbols, memorize the grimoires full of lengthy steps — had to do a lot more than just snap your fingers and hope for the best. That shit was higher magic. You didn’t mess with higher magic.

Still, Chaeyoung kind of wants to know.

“Hey Dahyun,” Chaeyoung starts, but before she can ask anything else, her gut twists with the inexplicable feeling that she’s being watched.

She turns around to scan the café. Most of the crowd look like college students, too busy typing away on their laptops to even consider watching her. Spellbound has always been a warm place, the common area decked out in homely wood decor, and the jungly borderline overgrown houseplants gave it a real lived-in feel. There were stacks upon stacks of used, worn books marked down for sale everywhere, and towering bookshelves in the back. The space between the shelves was relatively dark, and Chaeyoung’s sure she could easily get lost in there, but that wasn’t it either… Chaeyoung swears there was something tugging at her, something magical.

Then her gaze trails to an empty, round table near the straws and napkins.

A very _unassuming_ table.

“Chaeyoung?” Dahyun’s voice snaps her out of her reverie. “Is something wrong?"

Quickly, she turns her attention back to Dahyun.

“Nope! Nothing,” Chaeyoung blurts out, shaking her head vigorously.

“You sure—“

“Uhh, I meant to ask you about a book,” Chaeyoung insists, leaning back over the counter. Real smooth, Son Chaeyoung. Real smooth.

“But you don’t read?” Dahyun squints at her, tilting her head quizzically. “Are you sure you’re okay?"

“Oh no, it’s for Mina,” Chaeyoung says, digging out her phone. “Wanted me to get something for her."

 _Technically_ , she wasn’t lying. Whatever Mina had been reading over the weekend was a real beat up copy, and she had insisted that she loved old book smell just as much as the next person, but it was really hard to enjoy a book when its pages kept falling out. At least that much Chaeyoung understood.

Frantically, Chaeyoung thumbs through their text messages. She was too busy stealing one of Momo’s catering leftovers key lime pie slices to pay attention to whatever that ratty book was called, and Mina didn’t make it easy for her either. Sometimes, she was as cryptic as the authors she loved to wax poetic about, making references that flew over Chaeyoung’s head and giggling daintily every time Chaeyoung frowned. It feels like an eternity of Dahyun’s concerned stare before she finds something that looks remotely like a title.

“Uh, 'The Nice and Accurate Prophecies of Agnes Nutter, Witch’?” Chaeyoung says hesitantly, shuddering inwardly at the word “witch”, her gaze darting back to the small wooden table. Of course, Mina. It’s like she knew or something.

“You’re kidding,” Dahyun says, deadpan.

“What?”

“Tell her that’s she’s very clever,” Dahyun rolls her eyes and chuckles, pulling a black book out of her precarious eleven, now ten, stack of paperbacks next to the register. “I’m glad Mina’s finally reading it. I’ve been bugging her about it for months.”

Chaeyoung takes the book gracefully and inspects the cover. The title has absolutely nothing to do with nice and accurate prophecies or whatever, but it’s Dahyun. She's just as much of a literature nerd as Mina, and honestly, Chaeyoung didn't trust herself with anything related to books. She just hopes Dahyun isn’t messing with her, figures she can put her trust in her next door neighbor.

“Anything else?” Dahyun asks, one eyebrow raised.

“Nah,” Chaeyoung says, grabbing her latte off of the counter. “Thanks for everything, Dubu.”

“Yeah,” Dahyun grins, her eyes crinkling into crescents and her halo just a tad brighter than before. “Anytime!”

The wire symbols on the door jingle again as Chaeyoung steps outside. The air is chilly, and a bit brisk, the cold seeping through her uniform as she tucks the book underneath her arm. Pausing right outside the café, she takes a good long swig of her latte.

She was going to need that shot of courage. Damn witches.

* * *

**SANA**  
**2:50 PM, surrounded by fourteen unmanageable children**

Encompassed by a cacophony of small voices breathlessly chattering about future play dates that were totally going to be the best ever and dozen chubby hands tugging at her skirt, Sana sighs deeply, mindlessly drawing circles onto her pink clipboard.

Sana wants to say that Mondays are the worst, but that wasn't fair to Monday. Everyone gives Mondays a bad rap, and sometimes she thinks that’s really undeserved.

Mondays were the days when Felix and Changbin were unusually excited to do their super-secret-best-friends-for-life handshake as they shrugged off their coats in a messy pile in front of the cubbies, animatedly chatting about the latest episode of Pokémon that they had watched over the weekend. Sakura tugged at her skirt on Monday mornings, asking Sana in her lilting and unbelievably adorable satsugū dialect to teach her another word in Korean. Maybe best of all, Mondays had arts and crafts for first period, and Sana _loved_ arts and crafts.

The kids weren’t the most technically advanced artists, and you couldn’t expect an anatomically correct dinosaur from a five year old. Sana couldn’t tell whether Minjoo’s crayon drawing was supposed to be her mom or a dragon (apparently it was a gummy bear) but regardless, her parents were ecstatic when Sana painstakingly framed it for them in a pleasantly complementary sheet of red construction paper and strip magnets so they could proudly display it on their fridge. It’s why she could never teach middle or high school, the expectations growing more crushing and the parents becoming less and less excited about every little feat that their beautiful, amazing, wonderful children accomplished. It took a lot of energy, but if they weren’t going to be spoiled in the future, Sana was going to do her best to spoil them now.

But sometimes, Mondays do stink.

They made sock snowmen today, buttons, construction paper carrot noses, scarves, the whole nine yards. Sana felt pretty clever about it all. There was something satisfying about finding cheap yet fun projects that still fit within her abysmal designated Kindergarten budget. Yet, five minutes into the period, Jeongin and Jisung wouldn’t stop whining about how they wanted to paint with watercolors instead despite Sana’s insistence that they would be _making really, really, really cool snowy paintings on Wednesday_ . She couldn’t even persuade the two with a pinky promise, and Sana _always_ kept her pinky promises.

Then, lunch came and went mostly without a hitch, but Chaeryoung, bless her little heart, kept stepping on her fox tail despite Sana’s best efforts to keep it close to her body, and Ryujin kept pulling at her fluffy ears, giggling at how soft they were. They made it difficult for her to concentrate on reading The Hungry Hungry Caterpillar for poor sniffly Sakura who was curled up in her lap looking wholly miserable.

As much as she loves all fourteen of her little menaces, sticky fingers and all, she just wants to go home.

Then, there’s a small hand patting her thigh and, oh god, Sana thinks her heart just melted.

“Miss Sana,” Sakura mumbles, voice watery. “I don’t feel good.”

“Oh honey,” Sana coos, kneeling down to place the clipboard by her feet, pulling little Sakura into a hug. “Your dad will be here soon.”

“Are you sure?” Sakura says, pouting. “I feel really icky.”

“Yup,” Sana chirps, hefting the girl into her arms and booping her on the nose with a gentle finger. “I promise.”

Sakura whimpers something into her shoulder. Closing her eyes, Sana hums a lullaby she learned from her mother. When Sakura's body shakes with a sneeze, Sana just pulls her closer.

Sure, it was gross, but out of all her kids, Sakura didn’t deserve to get sick. It wasn’t fair to her, and it wasn’t fair to her parents either. Obviously, taking care of their daughter comes first, and Sana never doubts that, but it’s not easy asking for a couple of days off amidst a hectic work schedule. Whatever Sakura has managed to catch, whether it be a typical cold or the strain of the flu that had been blazing a path through the entire student and faculty body alike, Sana hopes that it stops bothering the poor child and finds a different, more capable victim.

“Hey,” a familiar voice calls out, hand gentle on her arm.

Sana blinks her eyes open, and she can’t help the grin that spreads across her face because Dahyun’s radiant smile is more contagious than any cold.

“Dahyunnie,” Sana whispers happily, tail flicking around excitedly. A few crayons roll off the table, but no matter. “I’ve missed you.”

“Here’s your chai,” Dahyun says, laughing when Sana’s arm immediately darts out for the cup. Dahyun’s chai teas were the best, and Sana was pretty sure she was addicted. Every morning, Dahyun faithfully filled her dented green thermos with the sweet, soothing drink, and unfailingly, at eleven o’ clock every day, Sana was always disappointed when it ran out. “Missed you too.”

“Mrhm,” Sakura sniffles, hands fisting in Sana’s sweater.

Dahyun’s gaze quickly turns to the child in her arms, her smile slipping off to make way for something more solemn. “Is she sick?”

“Yeah,” Sana frowns, voice low and ears drooping. “She’s been under the weather all day.”

Sakura shifts in Sana’s arms, eyes droopy, but still stares curiously at the halo above Dahyun’s head. Sana thinks it makes Dahyun’s elegant blonde hair seem even more luminous, and she can’t help but stare too.

“Hi,” Dahyun waves, giggling when Sakura shyly buries her face back into Sana’s shoulder.

“This is Dahyun, my best friend,” Sana explains, leaning in towards an inquisitive Sakura.

“Your best friend?” Sakura asks tentatively, wonder in her voice. “You have a best friend?”

Sana hums happily. “Mmhm."

“You have a very pretty best friend, Miss Sana,” Sakura says, looking a bit awe-struck. A blush blooms across Dahyun’s cheeks, and Sana has to try her best to not start laughing. Only kids could be so honest. “Is she an angel?”

“Uh huh, I am,” Dahyun stammers, clearing her throat awkwardly.

Sakura points a chubby finger towards her halo. “Is that real?”

Dahyun carefully plucks it off of her head. “Do you want to hold it?”

Sakura nods, and then gasps quietly when Dahyun places it in her small hands. She runs her fingers gently across the ring, examining it with amazement, and Sana doesn’t blame her. Warm to the touch, the halo radiates a soft golden glow that's neither too bright nor too dark.  Time passes by quickly when the kids are fixated on something, and Dahyun is a lifesaver. Sana owes Dahyun more than a few favors.

Quietly for the next few minutes, they watch parents, children, buses, and cars come and go. It’s something that Sana sees five times a week, more often than not, but she can’t help but feel a bit proud that she’s a part of this chaotic mess. The cup is warm in her hand, and the chai goes down even warmer. There's just the right amount of sugar, and the comforting mix of spices make her feel ready to face the winter chill on their way back home.

Their short stroll to the train station is Sana’s favorite part of the day. It wasn’t like Dahyun had to wait for her, considering her shift ended at two, but she did anyway, and that’s what mattered. The walk wasn’t very exciting, but it was a chance for them to catch up about Chaeyoung’s latest cooking disaster or that cool book Mina had recommended to Dahyun the other week. It was a chance to be alone with each other in a very busy world, and Sana truly cherishes that.

Thankfully, she didn’t have to wait long to enjoy her walk. Twelve short minutes later and Sakura’s dad scrambles into the room, apologizing profusely. Sana carefully puts Sakura back down on the floor, waving him off because, _there was no need to worry, no seriously, this was her job._

As he grabs her backpack from the cubbies, Dahyun kneels down, turning towards Sakura.

“May I have my halo back, Sakura?” Dahyun asks sweetly, patting her on the head.

“What do you say, Sakura-chan?” Sana coos, because at this point, it was a hardwired reaction for her to prompt her kids to be polite.

“T-thank you,” she mumbles, carefully leaving the glowing ring in Dahyun’s hands before running off behind her father’s leg. Her head pokes out from the side, and Sana smiles. What a cutie.

It’s only a few moments before she’s shepherded off into her father’s sedan and the pair drive off. Sighing, Sana checks off the final box on her pink clipboard before she swivels back towards Dahyun.

“Thank you,” Sana whispers, pulling her into a hug.

“Any time, Sana,” Dahyun says, and Sana can feel her smile against her chest. “Just doing what I should be doing.”

They stand there for a moment in the messy but empty classroom, Sana’s tail curled around the small of Dahyun’s back and her arms wrapped around her shoulders. As much as she loves their walks, she’s not in a rush, and it doesn’t seem like Dahyun is either.

“Ready?” Sana asks.

Dahyun hums thoughtfully. “One more minute?”

“Mmhm, okay.”  

* * *

**CHAEYOUNG**  
**later in the afternoon, hunched over a desk**

A few more words, Chaeyoung thinks, fingers flying across the keyboard.

The radiator hisses fiercely, and the pipes clang and whir under the load of the winter chill. Typing echoes throughout the office, accompanied by the occasional groan and scraping of metal drawers that probably should get greased by building maintenance.

It's not only her that's suffering. There's solidarity in numbers, Chaeyoung supposes. If there was one thing everyone in the station could agree on, it was that having to type up reports sucked. Today, the chief is right there with them, snarling at her computer with a disgusted look on her face that's been there ever since Chaeyoung got back from her lunch break almost three hours ago. Her shoulders tense up whenever Wonwoo starts grumbling for the umpteenth time about Mingyu getting hit on by every other person they walked past (called it) and Chaeyoung swears her catty eyes twitch angrily whenever Mingyu murmurs some pet name back in some sappy attempt to appease Wonwoo.

"Sorry I'm handsome, babe," Mingyu hums, and Chaeyoung doesn't have to take her eyes off of her work to see Mingyu's toothy smile.

"Man," Hani sighs wistfully. "I'll go with you next time, 'Gyu. You can leave me with the girls."

"You're awful, Hani," Chief Ahn, Hyojin, growls. "If you hit on civilians while on the clock, I'm locking you up too."

"Oh chief, you can arrest me any time," Hani bats her eyelashes innocently before cackling.

The entire office groans.

Hyojin's chair makes an awful noise, legs scraping against the floor as she stomps over towards Hani's desk.

"Oh that's it..."

A series of unearthly screeches ring from the other side of the office and Chaeyoung steels herself, ignoring them long enough to bash the save button. It was about time that she closed the case for good, no more perverted ghosts and exorcists. Thank god. It was a good ending, all things considered. The slimy fucker that managed the undead side of the insurance fraud was due for a court date next month at eight in the morning. Chaeyoung hopes that he enjoys waking up early just to get dragged behind bars.  

Chaeyoung slams her hands on the desk, her swivel chair sliding across the grimy tiled floor into the oppressive filing cabinet behind her with a rattling thunk.

"I'm done, bitches!" She yells, jabbing a thumb into the power button of the PC tower.

"Chaeyoung don't leave me," Hani croaks, breath leaving her in a half laugh, half desperate gasp. "Help!"

"Nope," she says unapologetically, throwing on her coat. Hani totally knew what she was getting into. "I'm out."

Pushing past the door, leaving Hani to kick and scream under Hyojin's wrath, Chaeyoung steps out of the station and sighs. It was about time she went home, and Tzuyu should have finished moving her stuff by now. Whipping out her phone, she shoots off a quick message. 

**CHOU TZUYU**

**Today:** 3:54 PM

**Chaeyoung**

hey, do you need anything??  
omw back home.

**Tzuyu**

actually, if u could get dinner that would b nice  
i dont have anything in my fridge rn

**Chaeyoung**

you’re vegetarian, right?  
is kimchi jjigae okay?

**Tzuyu**

yep!  
thank u chae :)

**Chaeyoung**

np.

Tzuyu's done a whole lot for her over the years, considering her familiar didn't learn that cars were dangerous after the first time. Bel, her familiar (the lazy little shit), probably thought it was worth it to trade one of his lives for whatever pigeon was huddled in a bush on the other side of the street. Neither his life nor the pigeon (whose carcass Chaeyoung ended up finding on the foot of her bed) were worth the vet bills that were sent to her address. Chaeyoung eyes the bustling restaurant and supposes she should repay her debts, or if Tzuyu thinks they're even, at least she could stay one step ahead.

* * *

**TZUYU**  
**5:05 PM, trapped on her couch**

It wasn't like she was dying to get up.

The couch was comfortable, Momo was easy company although a bit rambly (at some point during her speech about jokbal, Tzuyu zoned out _hard)_ , and she had gotten a surprising amount of work done while stuck being unable to move. This wasn't the first time it's happened to her. Every time she's napped in her office, leaning onto the desk, some roaming cat always managed to find its way onto her shoulders.

But today, it's the first time she's had a werewolf fall asleep on her, Mina's lean body sprawled across her lap. Tzuyu's laptop rises and falls gently with every measured breath she takes, and Tzuyu leans back onto the pillow propped up behind her. It was a cardinal sin for an animal enthusiast to wake up a sleeping animal, and Tzuyu figures Mina was no exception to this law. The moon was creeping into its place high in the January sky, and she wholeheartedly believes in Momo, agrees that Mina probably deserves every minute of rest she can get.

But it's also hard to answer the door with forty-six kilograms of caramel fur keeping her pinned against the couch, though.

"I got it," Momo waves, disappearing into the foyer. When she blinks again, she sees Chaeyoung stroll through the living room with two hefty plastic bags in her hands.

"Hey doc," Chaeyoung grins, quirking an eyebrow. "Glad to see you're getting along with everyone already."

"Mmhm," Tzuyu nods slowly. The warmth is making her drowsy.

"I've got your kimchi jjigae," Chaeyoung says, raising up an arm. "Should still be warm since they covered the lid with foil."

"Come on, Chae," Momo grins, sitting back down on the love seat. "At least heat it up for her. It's probably gross and lukewarm by now."

Chaeyoung rolls her eyes, and Tzuyu smiles. She supposes Momo was more than qualified enough to be picky about food.

"Fine fine," Chaeyoung says softly, jerking her head in the direction of Mina. "Give me a sec, since you seem a bit preoccupied."

Tzuyu thinks she nods, but honestly, everything was a bit pleasantly fuzzy. She hears Momo chatting up Chaeyoung about something in the background, feels the sofa sink underneath someone's weight. Quietly, Mina snorts, jostling her laptop as she shifts slightly. Vaguely, Tzuyu thinks that she's going to ruin her sleep schedule, but she could afford close her eyes... for a few minutes...

Suddenly, a bark.

Her laptop slips off Mina's shoulders, the lid closing with a thunk as it falls against the cushions. Tzuyu shakes her head, rubbing the sleep out of her eyes as Mina ungracefully rolls off the couch. Her nails clicking across the wooden floor as she scrambles towards Momo, huffing frantically.

"Huh?" Momo says less than elegantly, running a hand across the side of Mina's snout. "What's up?"

For a few seconds, she watches Mina tug at the hem of Momo's sweatshirt, pulling her off the love seat.

And then she hears it, a pop. There's a pause, Mina's muffled whining the only sound while the room stays quiet. From the kitchen, the microwave beeps cheerfully.

"Oh shit," Chaeyoung hisses, leaping off the couch and running into the kitchen, almost tripping over the coffee table in her haste.

Then the smoke alarm goes off, and Tzuyu isn't so sleepy any more.

"For the love of god," Momo groans, cupping her hands over her ears as she stumbles towards the front door. Quickly, Mina follows her footsteps with her ears flattened against her head, tail stiff, and looking miserable, desperate to escape the high pitched, ear-piercing screeching.

"I'm sorry!" Chaeyoung yells, voice drowned out by the incessant beeping and the sound of a window being slammed open.

Grimacing, Tzuyu shuffles into the foyer only to see the rest of the apartment's residents converging at her front door.

"I swear if it's Chaeyoung again, I'm going to murder her." The one with grey hair snarls, a scowl contorting her face.

"No murder, Jeongyeon," the blonde hisses, pulling the glowing halo off her head to whack the grey haired one, Jeongyeon, in the arm. "You'd be breaking the sixth commandment, and also that's illegal. Don't do that."

"Oh my god, Tzuyu," Jihyo puts a hand on her shoulder, brows knitted together in concern. "Are you okay? What happened?"

"Chaeyoung happened," Momo sighs heavily, Mina whining pitifully in assent.

"I told you, Nayeon," Jeongyeon elbows the girl beside her, and Nayeon just rolls her eyes.

"We were having a party and no one invited me?" Someone huffs, stumbling down the stairwell before draping herself over the blonde. Her orange fox ears are pressed against the top of her head, her feathery tail curling around the blonde's waist.

Then the screeching stops, and there's a collective sigh of relief.

"And the moment I come down," the kitsune says, pouting dangerously. "It's already over. That's no fun."

"Thank god it's over," Nayeon mutters, narrowing her eyes at the door when Chaeyoung finally emerges smelling a bit too much like smoke, a sheepish grin on her face.

"Good news," Chaeyoung says, laughing nervously. "Your kitchen isn't on fire."

Tzuyu furrows her brows. "And... the bad news?"

"I may or may not have forgotten about the aluminum foil," Chaeyoung runs a hand through her hair, wincing. "And I think I owe you a new microwave."

"No one let her anywhere near a kitchen. She's a walking fire hazard." Nayeon groans, and Momo solemnly nods in agreement.

It's at moment that all of Chaeyoung's bitching and Momo's stories of having to make dinner for three make sense, and Tzuyu isn't sure whether she should be regretting her decision to move in or not.

"Tzuyu, right?" Jeongyeon asks, arms crossed.

"Yeah?"

"Welcome, and," she waves her hand towards Chaeyoung. "You probably wanna get used to this."


	3. January 24th

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> Nayeon starts an animal shelter, Chaeyoung lets her apartment become an animal shelter, and Dahyun is stuck fishing out fur from tea.
> 
> Edit: Not sure why the date wasn't updating properly, but here's a reupload to correct that because I sure as hell didn't upload this on Feb 27th.
> 
> Sorry about the radio silence. I know I promised to update a week or so ago, but I got my ass kicked by back to back to back to back exams. 
> 
> As an apology, here is a compilation of [wholesome](https://www.reddit.com/r/aww/comments/aj6lxw/everyone_finds_him_intimidating_because_hes/) [dog gifs](https://i.imgur.com/o8fSdQg.gifv), [pictures](https://www.reddit.com/r/aww/comments/a7x3cv/that_little_nose_smush_tells_me_its_nearly_time/), [and](https://gfycat.com/FriendlyFrequentAruanas) [videos](https://www.reddit.com/r/aww/comments/aju6il/my_sweet_little_shelter_pup_just_wants_to_be_loved/) that have been my inspiration for werewolf Mina. Also consider this a preemptive apology for what happens in this chapter. 
> 
> I was sober while writing the first draft. Mostly.
> 
> Cheers.

**DAHYUN**  
**January 24th, 8:10 PM**

Dahyun stumbles backward, catching herself with one hand on the wall and grabbing her halo with the other. The front door swings the rest of the way open, and the door knob hits the wall with a sharp thud. Without a shred of hesitance, Nayeon barges into their apartment with a terrifying scowl on her face. The light in the foyer is off, but the warm glow from her halo illuminates the creases in Nayeon’s brow and her dead set glare. Gulping, Dahyun pulls it away behind her.  

“Where’s Sana?” Nayeon says lowly, her voice colder than the bitter wind outside. 

“Uhhh,” Dahyun starts, and she knows that this can only go so, so wrong.

* * *

**NAYEON**  
**sometime earlier that evening**

With grocery laden arms and fuzzy scarves wrapped around their necks in an attempt to stave off the biting cold, Nayeon and Jeongyeon shuffle back towards the safety of their toasty living room.

They had been arguing about stage names with Nayeon enthusiastically defending her opinion that “MC Rail” was _the_ choice name for a badass rapper alter ego. Obviously. Jeongyeon, ever the asshole, vehemently denied that MC Rail was any good whatsoever and rolled her eyes as Nayeon laid out, in fine detail, the composition of [ the best album cover ever](https://www.reddit.com/r/twicememes/comments/98fmmx/nayeon_about_to_drop_the_hottest_rap_album_of_2018/). Chaeyoung had taught her about the rule of thirds, having done a strange and spontaneous stint in photography for a semester during her college days, and knowing that concept surely made Nayeon more of an authority on album covers than whatever Jeongyeon was. Right?

But it was also Jeongyeon who had stopped dead in her tracks, letting Nayeon walk straight into her back with an oomph — Jeongyeon who had noticed Mina pacing feverishly in tight circles right outside the apartment building.

Honestly, Nayeon never knows what to expect whenever she comes back home.

It’s hard enough keeping track of Chaeyoung’s long history of fire alarm fiascos and Sana’s incessant wandering through _everyone’s_ apartments (and on multiple occasions, "sock drawers") to satisfy her thieving kitsune needs. If something goes absolutely wack, it’s usually their fault. Sometimes it’s Jeongyeon making a racket like the idiot she is, and sometimes it's Dahyun accidentally communing with a far too bright (literally bright, and Nayeon is absolutely convinced it was Dahyun's fault her prescriptions got bumped up during her latest optometrist appointment) angelic messenger in broad daylight to a gawking audience of passerby churchgoers on Sunday. Just going with the flow, resigning herself to the wild deluge that could take her somewhere, anywhere, was just a fact of life, an inevitability of living with a cozy handful of supernaturals and Momo.

Trouble followed all of them tirelessly, but rarely was it ever Mina.

“Hey,” Jeongyeon starts, and beneath the frosty glow of the streetlamp, Mina pauses with a jarring stop, her shoulders jumping up a meter as she flinches. Whipping around, she stops to stare back like a deer in headlights, the gold of her irises glinting in such a way that it sends an uncomfortable shiver down Nayeon’s spine. “Are you okay? Why aren’t you inside?"

Nayeon really hopes that she hasn’t been out long, but Mina’s cheeks are a rosy pink courtesy of the raw winter chill. Under fluffy tan earmuffs, her hair is uncharacteristically frazzled, sticking out every which way as if she had just rolled out of bed. It’s not a bad look per se (it's Mina - so she could be dressed in a burlap sack and still pull it off swimmingly), but it’s not a good look either.

“It’s-” Mina winces as her voice comes out small and raspy, and Nayeon squints at her as she clears her throat. “It’s nothing.”

“I know I'm stupid, but I’m not _that_ stupid,” Nayeon says, rolling her eyes. “Seriously, what’s up?"

"I'm fine," Mina says, and Nayeon thinks it's a miracle she's a practicing lawyer with how bad that defense was.

They had bumped into each other on Monday. Nayeon had seen Mina’s glossy caramel fur and flattened ears. The full moon was just a few days ago, and Nayeon knows that look on Jeongyeon’s face, sees the same gears turning in her head. She’s familiar with the way Jeongyeon blinks twice before steeling her gaze, recognizes the way her chest expands as she inhales deeply, ready to deliver a lengthy spiel about how Mina is _absolutely going to catch a cold if you keep pacing outside like that, for the love of god._

Sure, Jihyo was the landlord, the designated worried mom friend, but no one nagged more than Jeongyeon. Even if most of her rants and concerned chastising were out of the goodness of her heart, sometimes she just didn’t know when to shut up. Admittedly, Nayeon is fully aware that she’s no exception to this either, but it was okay. They were there to catch each other.

Gently, she grabs Jeongyeon’s wrist and hears her let out a resigned exhale, sees her chest sink back down.

“Come inside, Mina,” Jeongyeon says softly, putting her grocery bags down to take Mina’s surely cold hands in her own.

“I can’t,” Mina shakes her head.

“Why?”

“I just,” Mina sighs heavily, wisps of her warm breath spiraling into the night sky. “Tzuyu.”

“Tzuyu?” Nayeon asks, frowning. “Did something happen? Are you okay?”

Everyone had already met, spontaneous pleasantries exchanged outside Tzuyu’s apartment surrounded by the faint yet unforgettable smell of charred plastic and smoke. Leave it up to Son Chaeyoung to be a social butterfly in her strange, slightly singed ways. Tzuyu seemed nice enough considering she didn’t strangle (let alone get angry) at Chaeyoung for setting fire to her microwave the day she moved in, which Nayeon would have _totally_ done had she been in Tzuyu’s shoes. She carried herself with a level of grace that rivaled Mina, her voice mellow and her expressions soft. However, considering she was friends with Chaeyoung, surely she wasn’t all that innocent.

If anyone did anything to Mina, Nayeon swears she wouldn’t hesitate to throw the culprit down a flight of stairs, preferably multiple flights of stairs, and Tzuyu, friendly or not, would be no exception. Had any of them got into some kind of melee, realistically, Mina would be the last one standing (albeit on four paws versus two legs), but Mina had too big a heart for that. Nayeon knows that she won’t top Momo in this one. Quite frankly, she loves herself too much to go to the ends of the Earth to fight for Mina, but she'll get pretty damn close.

There must be a terrifying scowl on her face, because Mina stammers, waving her hands wildly in front of her. “I-I’m okay. Tzuyu didn’t do anything. I promise."

“Let’s talk inside, yeah?” Jeongyeon mutters, picking up the plastic grocery bags. “It’s fuckin’ freezing.”

“Come on, Mina.” Nayeon says, nudging her in the side. "Eat dinner with us?”

“I-” Mina starts, but her shoulders slump as she gets corralled into the building's entrance. “Fine.”

There aren’t many constants in her life. Patients, new and old, walk through her clinic doors. She doesn’t know when she’ll catch Jeongyeon angrily vacuuming the carpet for the umpteenth time, and Momo’s spontaneity makes it difficult to keep tabs on what’s going on even inside her own home, but Nayeon’s a firm believer in food and good ol’ peer pressure. There’s nothing they can’t fix.

“Attagirl,” Nayeon says, grinning. It hasn’t failed her yet.

* * *

**CHAEYOUNG**  
**a few minutes later**

“I didn’t let you in so you could psychoanalyze Mina on my couch,” Chaeyoung grumbles, shutting the door behind her.

With a massive sigh, Chaeyoung watches as Jeongyeon shepherds a lost Mina onto the scuffed olive chaise lounge; a spontaneous and slightly regrettable thrift shop purchase that left her living room looking more like an eccentric therapist’s office than anything else.

“You’re getting dinner out of this,” Nayeon yells from the kitchen — now _her_ kitchen, because Im Nayeon does not share.

With her grocery bags, she claimed the innocent stovetop as her own, commandeering every last square centimeter because apparently she doesn't trust Chaeyoung with cooking anything. Come on. She's a functional adult. She can make food without burning it most of the time.

“Make yourself at home my ass,” Chaeyoung mutters, defeatedly sinking into a beanbag.

With her coat still on and her earmuffs hanging around her neck, Mina tucks herself neatly into the corner doing her very best to look exceptionally small. Jeongyeon, completely oblivious to the confusion and discomfort written all over Mina’s face, or perhaps more likely, completely unconcerned, swings her legs onto Mina’s lap, sandwiching her against the back of the couch. Next to Chaeyoung’s spot on the floor, Bel, her three-legged familiar, hisses at the two before Chaeyoung scoops him up onto her lap. Trapped by Jeongyeon’s steady arm around her shoulders, Mina wriggles restlessly, sinking further and further into the singular arm of the chaise lounge.

They make eye contact, and Mina simply mouths “help”.

“And why did you drag Mina with you?” Chaeyoung asks, one hand massaging the scruff of Bel’s neck.

Ever the victim, Mina was probably hauled against her non-confrontational will into Chaeyoung’s apartment. Chaeyoung knows there’s no stopping the force of nature that is Nayeon and Jeongyeon with a shared agenda. Briefly, she nods at Mina, vows to free her from the clutches of Dumb and Dumber as soon as possible so she can go back to doing Mina things (most of which are things that do not involve Nayeon or Jeongyeon in any way, shape, or form).

“We found her outside looking like a lost puppy,” Jeongyeon chuckles, affectionately ruffling Mina’s hair, much to Mina’s obvious dismay. “Of course we had to bring her in.”

“I am not a lost puppy,” Mina frowns, hugging a cushion to her chest.

“She was pacing around in nervous circles,” Nayeon calls out. “Totally a lost puppy.”

“Can I not take a walk in peace?” Mina huffs, a disarming pout on her face.  

“What she means to say is that,” Jeongyeon snickers, rolling her eyes. “She was avoiding Tzuyu."

“I was not,” Mina snaps, infinitely more bark than bite, her voice muffled by the cushion as she ducks behind it.

“Tzuyu is harmless,” Chaeyoung says, gawking at Mina. No way was anyone or anything scared of Chou Tzuyu. “She literally wouldn't harm a fly.”

“Exactly,” Jeongyeon nods sagely.

Mina shakes her head, lips pursed tightly. “You don’t understand."

"She didn’t even yell at Chaeyoung for ruining her microwave,” Jeongyeon quips, and Chaeyoung glares at her and hopes she notices. Jerk. "There’s no reason to be afraid of her.”

“Jeongyeon,” Mina hisses, cupping Jeongyeon's face in her hands, a furious blush on her cheeks. “You _don’t_ understand."

“What?”

“I _licked_ her.”

“Oh my god,” Nayeon cackles, sticking her head out of the doorway. “You what?”

“What do you mean you _licked_ _her_?” Jeongyeon sputters, jaw hanging open, eyes wide.

“I don’t know why, but I was drawn to her. I think it’s a dryad thing.” Mina blurts out, eyes squeezed shut. “Tzuyu thought I was a Leonberger before Jihyo told her I was a werewolf. She got super embarrassed and then-“

“Then you licked her,” Chaeyoung finishes lamely, digging her phone out of her back pocket.

“I had known her for five minutes, couldn’t even introduce myself,” Mina groans, her distressed word vomit accompanied by unmistakable sound of Nayeon laughing her ass off in the kitchen. “And then I licked her."

 

 **CHOU TZUYU**  
**Today:** 8:01 PM

 **Chaeyoung**  
can you come up to my apartment for a sec?  
the door’s unlocked.

 **Tzuyu**  
sure i guess

 **Chaeyoung**  
thanks.

 **Tzuyu**  
wait  
this isnt anything weird right?

 **Chaeyoung**  
probably not.

 **Tzuyu**  
chaeng  
what does that mean???

 **Chaeyoung**  
don’t worry about it.

 **Tzuyu**  
… ok  
omw

 

“And that was your first response?” Jeongyeon asks, raising an eyebrow, an incredulous grin on her face.

Mina nods silently, visibly deflating.

Tonight, it's Mina and her dignity versus the world, and Chaeyoung can’t help but feel a little bad. It’s not easy being on the receiving end of Nayeon and Jeongyeon’s unrelenting antics, this much she’s unfortunately familiar with, but she figures it’s now or never. Chaeyoung knows not to underestimate Mina’s perplexing ability to avoid people like the plague, and if she’s not forced into the same room as Tzuyu, it would be a lifetime and a half before they would bump into each other.

Then, two brief, almost inaudible knocks cut through the humiliating silence, and Tzuyu’s voice floats in from the foyer.

“Chaeyoung?” She calls out cautiously, the door squeaking on its hinges as it opens. “Did you need something?”

And if it was possible, Mina blushes even harder in absolute mortification, her cheeks ablaze with a burning crimson. Immediately, she presses her face into the cushion in her arms and Chaeyoung can only mentally facepalm as Mina makes a noble attempt to become one with the olive chaise lounge. In a different universe, Mina would have probably accomplished the feat through sheer willpower alone.

“No way,” Jeongyeon howls as Tzuyu pads into the living room, her characteristic lilting, out-of-breath laugh bouncing off the walls. “Chaeng. You’re the best."

“What’s going on?” Tzuyu says, narrowing her eyes at Chaeyoung, still slumped on a beanbag. Bel stumbles out of her arms to rub his head on Tzuyu’s pants. “Did I miss something?”

Turning, Chaeyoung gives Tzuyu a shrug before waving a hand at Mina’s head of russet brown hair. “Tzuyu, Mina.”

“Oh,” Tzuyu mumbles, fiddling with the hem of her sweater.

"Mina, Tzuyu.”

“Hi,” Tzuyu tries, giving Mina a halfhearted wave.

“Uhm, hi.” Mina says, voice barely above a whisper.

It was an attempt.

Save for the sound of Jeongyeon desperately trying to catch her breath and the bubbling of whatever soup Nayeon has going on the stove, the room is painfully silent. And really, Chaeyoung doesn’t know what else she expected. It’s like an old western movie standoff. The town ain’t big enough for the both of them, and she can practically see the tumbleweeds blow by. They have their pistols half-cocked, and Chaeyoung’s about to pull the damn triggers for them.

And from the door, a deafening [ AH-CHUH-BUH-BUH ](https://youtu.be/KwtekyERPGA?t=67%0A) floods in through the foyer.

“What was that?” Tzuyu asks, looking genuinely concerned, and Chaeyoung smiles a resigned smile.

“Damnit,” Jeongyeon grumbles. “Ruined the moment.”

Tzuyu had a lot to learn. Sana, consciously or unconsciously, couldn’t help inserting herself into everything; hugs, phone calls, dinners, and especially conversations between two people too embarrassed to speak to each other.

“That was Sana,” Chaeyoung shrugs, and had she heard that from a mile away, she’d still pinpoint the source. There was no mistaking that sneeze. No one else sneezed like that. “She has a weird sneeze."

“I think she caught something at school earlier this week,” Mina says quietly.

Nayeon smashes the lid onto the pot with a piercing metallic ring, squawking loudly. “Is everyone in this apartment incompetent at taking care of themselves?”

“If anyone asks,” Mina quips. “I didn’t tell Nayeon anything.”

“I’ll be back,” Nayeon says angrily.

“Nayeon wait,” Jeongyeon tries, but freezes when Nayeon points an accusatory finger in her direction with a terrifying scowl on her face.

“I said,” Nayeon hisses, voice icy as she storms out towards the door. “I’ll be back."

With a thunderous thunk, the front door slams shut and a trail of displaced take-out menus and envelopes litter Nayeon's warpath, abandoned and scattered in her wake. Sighing heavily, Chaeyoung eyes the mess in the hallway. Last week, the ever selfless Jihyo had alphabetically sorted out all the menus and arranged them nicely in a cute basket near her front door, and this is what happens to her loving handiwork?

Perhaps Mina would wax poetic about how fate is a cruel mistress, but Chaeyoung’s a realist. Nayeon’s one track mind can be a crueler mistress than fate. Well, at least it would be for Sana.

“You should stay for dinner,” Chaeyoung says nonchalantly.

“I mean,” Tzuyu glances over towards Mina and Jeongyeon. “Only if it’s okay with everyone.”

Throwing an arm over Mina’s shoulder, Jeongyeon grins. “It’s okay with you, right, Mina?”

“Y-yeah,” Mina nods. “That’s okay—"

Then, a quiet hissing cuts through her words.

“Wait,” Mina says, voice meek as she turns her head towards the kitchen. “Did Nayeon leave the stove on?”

Another hiss — an angrier hiss.

“Oh my god,” Jeongyeon groans, scrambling off the couch and sliding across the floor in socked feet. Clumsily, she catches herself on a wall before swinging herself into the kitchen, and Chaeyoung can only roll her eyes.

So much for everyone else in the apartment being incompetent at taking care of themselves.

* * *

  **DAHYUN**  
**after nayeon almost breaks down the door**

“Nayeon?” Dahyun calls out tentatively, slowly opening the door. “What are you- woah!”

Dahyun stumbles backward, catching herself with one hand on the wall and grabbing her halo with the other. Swinging the door the rest of the way open, Nayeon barges into their apartment with a scowl on her face. The light in the foyer is off, but the warm glow from her halo illuminates the creases in Nayeon’s brow and her dead set glare. Gulping, Dahyun pulls it away behind her.  

“Where’s Sana?” Nayeon says lowly, a fist gripping a prescription bottle so tightly that Dahyun thought the plastic would spontaneously snap into a million little orange pieces.

“Uhhh,” Dahyun starts, knowing well Nayeon could probably hear the thumping of her uneasy heart. Once Nayeon set her mind to something, there was no way to convince her otherwise, and Dahyun feels the sweat start to bead on her temple.

Dahyun was familiar with fortitude as a virtue, the sort that was the crux of Beowulf’s victory versus Grendel in the ruined mead hall of King Hrothgar, the strength of character defined by St. Thomas Aquinas in his _Summa Theologiae_ , or the ability to dedicate oneself to a purpose, _fi_ _rmitas_ , as the Romans knew it. But in that moment, with Nayeon staring daggers at her, Dahyun could have sworn it was a vice.

“Dahyun,” Nayeon repeats, crossing her arms. “Where’s Sana?”

“Don’t be too harsh on her,” Dahyun pleads. “There’s just a lot to do this week.”

“Look, I’m not here to murder her or anything,” Nayeon sighs, putting her face in her hands when Dahyun arches an eyebrow.

“But you’re angry? Is it her sneezing?"

“Okay fine, I’m angry. Mina and Tzuyu were having a moment and she sneezed really loudly—“

“Mina and Tzuyu?” Dahyun asks quizzically. "Did something happen?"

"That’s besides the point,” Nayeon snaps. “It’s also because I’ve got a hunch she’s actually sick and she’s not taking care of herself."

“I mean, she said it was only a cold,” Dahyun starts, threading a hand through her hair. “Her forehead was warm, but I didn’t think much of it. She’s usually pretty good about getting over them.”

“Uh huh,” Nayeon taps her foot impatiently. “But it’s also flu season. Did you check her temperature?”

“Uhm, no?”

“God, she better not be planning to go to work tomorrow,” Nayeon mutters under her breath. “Where is she right now?"

“Dining table,” Dahyun mumbles, trailing nervously behind Nayeon into the kitchen. “Working on lesson plans.”

Nayeon pauses in the doorway, hands on her hips as Dahyun slips past her to move towards the cupboards. The scratching of the pen stops as Sana looks up. Sitting with her legs to her chest, she looks smaller than usual. Her usually perky ears drooping under Nayeon’s stern gaze as she swims in a purple hoodie three sizes too large.

“Dahyun?” Sana mumbles quietly, pressing a neon green sticky note down on one of the dozens of packets sprawled out on the table in front of her. “Am I in trouble?”

“Yes. You’re in trouble.” Nayeon grumbles. “ I’m here to put you in the time out corner.”

“Not the time out corner!” Sana hisses, her fluffy orange ears pressing flat against her head, tail lashing out erratically. “It’s only eight ‘o clock, and I have to finish these first.”

“I’m done with everyone here being sick workaholics,” Nayeon groans exasperatedly, throwing up her hands.

“Are you sure you’re not just annoyed at Jeongyeon sneezing at two in the morning?” Dahyun asks delicately, moving over to the counter to brew another cup of hot tea. “You do share a bed with her."

“Okay. First of all, don’t call me out like this, Dahyun, but I’m _especially_ tired of this one sneezing at a hundred decibels when I’m trying to have a nice dinner,” Nayeon points an accusatory finger at Sana. “She has a really weird sneeze.”

Sana gasps loudly. “I do not!”

“Yes you do,” Nayeon rolls her eyes. “The only person with a[ weirder sneeze](https://youtu.be/KwtekyERPGA?t=59) than you is Momo, and that’s saying something.”

“She’s not wrong,” Dahyun quips.

“And I thought you were on my side,” Sana whines, moving around Dahyun’s front to wrap her arms around her waist, nuzzling her face into her shoulder.

“Sorry,” Dahyun says, praying that Sana doesn’t sneeze into her shirt.

It’s difficult to make tea with a clingy Sana in the way, but Dahyun awkwardly reaches for a spoon and goes for the sugar anyway. The tea bag cover falls to the floor as Sana’s feathery tail sweeps back and forth across the counter. Sighing, Dahyun hopes that Sana doesn’t mind a few strands of fur in her earl grey.

“Also, you should be lecturing Mina, not me,” Sana turns around to stick her tongue out at Nayeon, resting her chin in the crook of Dahyun’s neck. “She works longer hours than I do. I’m innocent.”

“Second of all, wow okay. Way to throw Mina under the bus,” Nayeon crosses her arms. “But also, Mina isn’t sick. My point being _you’re_ the one who's sick, and if you go to work, you’re gonna get everyone else sick too.”

“But who’s going to teach my kids?”

“Do you want to get your kids sick?” Nayeon asks, voice stern.

“No,” Sana mumbles, shaking her head.

“Yeah I thought so,” Nayeon pulls her away, voice trailing off she corrals Sana into the bedroom. “Go get some rest. Doctor’s orders."

Carefully, Dahyun tries her best to spoon out the cream colored hairs floating on top of the tea. They’ll be near impossible to see once she puts the milk in. Most of the time, Dahyun preferred her teas black. There was something really comforting about the pure taste of the tea, just the leaves and the hot water. Sana liked it a bit softer, though, needed something to cut the sharpness and the bitter taste. It suited her, Dahyun thinks as she puts in a splash of milk, a mellow drink for someone as affectionate as Sana.

Neither of them were coffee fanatics, considering Sana scrunched her nose in disgust every time Mina offered her a sip of her red eye. Caffeine and Sana never went well together anyway, the result more akin to having one of her sugar-hyped four year old students bounce around the apartment rather than a slightly buzzed functioning adult. But, that’s probably why her kids loved her so much. She’d kneel down to talk eye to eye, roll around on the playground turf making airplane whooshing noises as the boys ran circles around her, and let whoever was behind her touch the downy tips of her ears as she flipped through a picture book for the child on her lap.

Dahyun would always try to find time to watch _Miss Sana_ (“Minatozaki" had a few too many syllables for the kindergarteners) at work. Sure, the red plastic chairs were far too small for her and occasionally some of the girls would ask her slack-jawed and wide-eyed about why her hair was blonde and not black, but as she sipped the warm chai tea from Sana’s scratched up thermos, her heart would always soar.

Suddenly, a pained squeal cuts through the air, snapping Dahyun out of her reverie. Dahyun slams the fridge door closed, a crayon drawing sailing onto the floor as she rushes over to their bedroom. If Nayeon hurt Sana…  

She’s not an active duty angel anymore, the sixth commandment be damned.

“Nayeon,” Dahyun sticks her head in through the door, more than ready to dunk Sana’s earl grey all over Nayeon’s head. “You promised no murder.”

Sana whines pitifully around the thermometer in her mouth, cradling her right hand. “She had a needle.”

“Oh shush, you big baby. It was just a pin prick,” Nayeon pulls the covers up to Sana’s shoulders. “Be thankful I didn’t bite you.”

“Needle?” Dahyun asks, sitting down on the bed, placing down the mug on the nightstand.

“The flu shows up on blood tests,” Nayeon hums thoughtfully, licking her finger before cringing at the taste. “Also your blood is really sweet. Lay off the cake."

“N'cool,” Sana slurs as Nayeon pulls the thermometer from her mouth.

“Congrats Dahyun,” Nayeon says dryly, examining the thermometer, ignoring Sana burrowing under the sheets. “She’s got a thirty-eight degree fever and this year’s most popular strain of H3N2.”

“It means she’s gonna make me take a bazillion pills,” Sana whimpers, head poking out from underneath the sheets next to Dahyun left side, one fluffy ear sticking out.

“Don’t you even try those puppy eyes,” Nayeon mutters, shaking out the contents of a series of prescription bottles. “I’m not gonna fall for those again.”

“But Nayeooonnn,” Sana pouts, and it tugs at Dahyun’s heartstrings.

She had been under the weather during the weekend, getting all sniffly and whiny, but it’s nothing compared to this. It’s not often that she gets sick, but the flu is the flu. Probably got it from one of her kids considering a handful of them had been in and out recently. Moving her hand under the comforter, Dahyun rubs comfortingly at Sana’s shoulder, watching her grab a stuffed rabbit from the sizable collection of other plushies on the bed. Every time she came to bed, Dahyun swore another one showed up.

“The last time Mina pulled that on me, Jeongyeon ended up angrily vacuuming werewolf fur out of our living room for an hour,” Nayeon says. “So, no. You’re taking these."

“Dahyun,” Sana glances up at her desperately, then at the rainbow of pills in Nayeon’s hand, then back to Dahyun. “Help.”

“Uhh,” Dahyun tries, but her voice trails off when Nayeon glares at her.

“Just make sure she takes these sometime tonight,” Nayeon says sternly, putting down the handful of pills next to the tea and leaving the rest of the bottles on the nightstand. “I’ll text you instructions, yeah?"

“Mmhm,” Dahyun nods. “Sorry for the trouble.”

“No problem, Dubu,” Nayeon smiles toothily, all bunny teeth and fangs as she pads over towards the door. “I mean, I swore an oath decades ago, obligated to help sick people or something like that. Fuck if I know. God, I’m old.”

“Oh, how noble of you,” Sana drawls, her tail swishing loudly underneath the sheets.

“Wait,” Nayeon whips around. “Is that Kkaengi?”

“Uhm,” Sana blinks, clutching the stuffed rabbit to her chest. “Maybe?"

“Next time you steal Kkaengi," Nayeon hisses, grabbing the threadbare stuffed rabbit from Sana’s arms. "I’m letting you overdose you on Nyquil.”

“Remember? No murder,” Dahyun frowns, running a hand through Sana’s hair.  

“Next time. Try me, Minatozaki.” Nayeon mutters under her breath, stalking out of the room. “Fucking kitsunes.”

A few moments later, the front door slams shut with a heavy thud. There’s a brief silence.

“When did you even find time to steal that?”

“Huh? Kkaengi?” Sana looks at her quizzically. “When I went to look for one of Jeongyeon’s comfy hoodies because I was cold. She looked kinda lonely on the bed.”

“Wait,” Dahyun squints at the hoodie she’s been wearing for the whole day. The purple hoodie three sizes too big for her. The purple hoodie she doesn’t own.

“It’s _very_ comfy,” Sana hums contentedly, nuzzling her head into Dahyun’s side.

“Sana!"


End file.
